Sing it.
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Singing a different song.
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Make it.
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Guess who will play along.
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I can't help looking at me.
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C'est La Vie.
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My hands are free as can be.
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C'est La Vie.
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Wanted: Passion.
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Wasted and hopeless.
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Makeshift glory,
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Praises, fortress, blame me.
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How can I speak on the other side?
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How can I speak on the other side?
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We cannot be inside this war until we bleed and make it
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Louder. Louder. Louder. Louder. Louder. Louder. Louder. Louder.
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With various degrees of love and of hate.
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With a gun strapped to your side, I believe you have your faith.
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I move onward with a trumpet and a voice
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And a ghost inside my head and the past is noise.
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-----------------
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First
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The Chariot |